


Satellite News

by zorac



Series: Echo Park - an anthology [12]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Sacrifice Maxine "Max" Caulfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-15 11:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorac/pseuds/zorac
Summary: The choice between sacrificing Chloe and sacrificing the entire town isn’t much of a choice at all. Max decides to find a third way, no matter the cost.





	1. Plan 3 from Arcadia Bay

Click! Whir… Instinctively, I pull the Polaroid out of my camera and shake it, but then I just drop it on the wet floor. I don’t want to keep this picture; if I have it, there will always be the temptation to use it, to come back here again and try to change things. A moment ago I was standing up by the lighthouse with Chloe, but now I’m back in the girls’ bathroom at Blackwell. Hoping that if I sacrifice her to the gods of time and chaos, they’ll take back their storm and let everyone else in Arcadia Bay live. Everyone except the woman I’m in love with.

Nathan barges into the bathroom, talking to himself and trying keep his cool. The no-longer-mysterious blue-haired girl isn’t far behind him. I’ve seen this scene before – twice. All I have to do is let it play out without using my rewind power, watch Chloe die, and then I’ll be back at the lighthouse. Everything I broke will be fixed, all those innocent people won’t die in a storm on Friday. Of course, everything I fixed will be broken again – Chloe will be dead, and maybe Kate too.

I try to tell myself that I’m making the right choice, the rational choice, the _moral_ choice. Who am I to sacrifice possibly hundreds of lives to save just one or two? Could I really live with myself after that? Somehow I doubt it. The problem is, that after the last week, I don’t think I can live without Chloe either. I’m in a classic no-win scenario, my own personal Kobayashi Maru. That’s when it hits me – I need to do what Kirk did; I need to change the rules of the game. Suddenly, I know how to save Chloe _and_ make sure that my powers aren’t a threat to Arcadia Bay.

Nathan and Chloe’s argument is reaching critical mass as I throw myself around the corner and dash towards them. There’s barely time for surprise to start registering on Nathan’s face before I’m pulling them apart. And then the gun goes off. Immediately, I look at Chloe; she seems fine, no red stain spreading across her abdomen. Then our eyes meet, and I see first recognition and then confusion. “Max?” she asks uncertainly.

She’s momentarily distracted by Nathan – he’s overbalanced and is now scrabbling around on the floor to retrieve the gun from where he dropped it. Chloe deftly dispatches him with a steel-toe-capped boot to the temple. She looks back to me, this time taking in the full picture. The expression on her face becomes one of horror, and I can hear pain and fear in her voice. “Max! Oh my God, Max!”

I lift up the hand that for some reason had been pressed against my stomach and see that, bizarrely, it’s been painted red. It’s almost like one of those clichéd movie scenes where some guy’s been shot but doesn’t know it yet. Realization and pain hit me at the same time. My legs turn to jello and I collapse, but Chloe catches me and lowers me gently to the ground. “Hey Chloe,” I manage weakly. Seems like my voice is still working. That’s good. “I’m sorry it took so long to come back to you.”

Behind her, the door bursts open and David Madsen rushes in; Chloe screams at him to call an ambulance. She lies me down and rests my head in her lap. “You don’t need to apologize for anything, Super-Max.” she says, her voice all choked up. “You hella saved my life.”

“But I abandoned you when you needed me most!”

“And that wasn’t your fault. It’s not like your parents would have let you stay here while they moved to Seattle.”

“I know, but I could at least have stayed in touch.”

“Hey, that’s on both of us. Don’t go blaming yourself, okay?”

“Okay.” I don’t have the strength to argue.

I can feel the cold starting to spread up my body, and it’s starting to get harder to breathe. “Listen, Chloe. I don’t think I’ve got long left. There are some things I need to tell you. I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to believe me.”

“Of course, Max.” Tears are streaming down her face now.

“I’m so, so sorry to have to tell you this, but Rachel is dead.” I can see Chloe open her mouth to deny it, but I give her a small shake of my head. After a moment, she nods and I can tell that she believes me, that on some level she already knew.

“Nathan killed her and buried her in the junkyard. He and Mr. Jefferson have been drugging girls like Rachel and Kate, then kidnapping them so they can take perverted pictures. They have this ‘dark room’ underneath a barn the Prescotts own. Tell David, he’ll… he’ll know what to do.”

I close my eyes for a moment, and Chloe freaks. “No, Max, don’t go! I can’t lose you as well!”

“I don’t think I have a choice.” I cough, and the taste of blood is in my mouth. “Listen, you owe me big time for this, so I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything,” she sobs.

“I need you to make something of your life, okay? You are an amazing person, and you deserve better than being stuck in this shitty little town. You have so much to give to the world.”

“I don’t feel amazing,” she says in a small voice.

“Well, you are. I know it, Rachel knew it, and William knew it. Don’t you… don’t you dare let us down.” My voice is beginning to give way.

“I’ll try.”

“Do,” I croak, “or do not. There is no try.” This surprises a small laugh out of Chloe.

“I’ll… do.” She says after a moment. “Pinky swear.” My vision is dimming now, the world slipping away.

“Seeing you… one last time… it was the best farewell gift I could have hoped for.” I draw one final, labored breath and manage to whisper, “I’ll always love you… and Chloe Price? Don’t you forget about me.”

“Never!” I hear her reply, and then I slide into darkness.


	2. Max of the Dead

The afterlife isn’t quite what I expected. To be honest I didn’t really expect one at all; I leave that sort of thing to people like Kate. So when the darkness fades away and I find myself standing back in the bathroom, I’m more than a little confused. The heartbreaking sound of Chloe’s sobbing brings me back to reality. She’s still sitting on floor, holding… my body.

I look down, and I can see that I’m wearing the same outfit as before – minus the bloodstains. I go towards Chloe, wanting to comfort her, but when I touch her it’s like she’s made of stone. Gently rocking stone, but stone nonetheless. She doesn’t look up.

“She cannot feel you,” says a voice from behind me, “or see you, or hear you.” I turn around to see a strangely androgynous being wearing a simple grey robe.

“Where am I?” I ask. “Is this heaven? Or hell?”

“It is neither,” replies the figure. “It is exactly what it appears to be. Do you really believe that someone who has made all the sacrifices that you have made would be destined for anything resembling hell?”

I shuffle awkwardly. “I hope not, but I didn’t want to… assume. Am I a ghost, then?”

“In a manner of speaking. You are a disembodied soul, lingering in this world after your physical form has passed away.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as you need to, or as long as you want to. Until you are ready to Move On.”

“And then what?”

“I have no information regarding that.”

“Who… or what… are you?”

“I am a guide, created to aid you through the transition until you Move On, or a real human guide can be found for you.”

“Great. Just tell me what I can do to help Chloe.”

“Nothing. The dead cannot interact with the living.”

“Okay, can you at least tell me if I’ve fixed time, if getting myself killed has stopped the tornado? ’Cause it’s really gonna suck if this hasn’t worked.”

“I have no information regarding that.”

“Wow, you really are incredibly helpful.”

“Thank-you, it is my purpose to be of assistance.”

“But not to understand sarcasm, apparently.”

“I have no information regarding that.”

“Figures.” I sigh in exasperation. The door opens and David leads a couple of paramedics in. “Sorry guys,” I deadpan, “you’re too late.” Gallows humor seems entirely appropriate right now. They respond by walking straight through me, like I’m as insubstantial as a ghost; I guess that really is all I am now. Still, the sensation is hella weird, so I move out of the way of the cops who follow them in a few seconds later.

The medics quickly establish that I’m past their help, then move to check on Nathan. Unconscious, but sill alive – fortunately. Not that I wouldn’t be happy to see him dead; I just don’t want Chloe to have become a killer. The cops bag Nathan’s gun, then Officer Berry comes over to talk to Chloe. “I need to ask you a few questions,” he begins.

“Can’t this wait?” David interrupts angrily, “Chloe is obviously traumatized, and the last thing she needs right now is an interrogation!” There’s a hint of surprise on Chloe’s face – clearly she’s not expecting this support from her step-douche.

“You know we can’t let her leave, Madsen, not until we have some idea what happened here. Is there anything _you_ can tell us?”

“I was keeping an eye on things out in the hall. I heard a single gunshot and came running. I saw Mr. Prescott lying on the floor, apparently unconscious, and Chloe holding the girl who’d been shot, talking to her. She screamed at me to call an ambulance, so I called them and then you, then I went out to the front of the school to guide you in. The victim is a student here at Blackwell, her name is Maxine Caulfield.”

“Max,” Chloe says slowly, “never Maxine. And that rich bastard murdered my friend!” There’s anger in her voice now.

“Can you tell me how you know Max?”

“We grew up together. She was my best friend in the whole world, until her parents decided to move to Seattle just after my Dad died. I haven’t seen her in five years, then she comes out of nowhere, like she’s fucking Bat-Max, and she takes a fucking bullet for me, and this is just so fucking unfair!” She’s crying again.

The cop allows her to calm down a little before continuing. “What happened before that?”

“I was meeting Nathan here to confront him about… something that happened a few nights ago. We argued, and then he pulled out the gun. I tried to calm him down, but he just got more and more aggressive. Max must have already been in here because she appeared out of nowhere and pulled us apart just as he pulled the trigger.”

“What were you confronting him about?”

“A few nights ago, I ran into him at a party, and he must have spiked my drink. When I woke up I was in his room and he was… taking photographs of me. We fought, and I managed to get away.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?”

Chloe gives a bitter laugh. “What would be the point? The Prescotts own this fucking town. Nathan’s dad would just have called one of his pocket cops and made it go away.”

Berry’s silence is an admission of the truth in her accusation. Eventually, he asks, “is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Actually, yeah. Before Max died, she said some things about Nathan, well, not just Nathan. She asked me to tell David, that he’d know what to do. Can I trust you as well?”

He sighs. “I’m not going to deny that the Sean Prescott has… done me a favor, and expects it to be repaid; but helping out a killer is far beyond what I’d be willing to do.”

“Okay. I’m not the only person he’s done that to. He drugged Kate Marsh – probably the night that video of her was taken – and Rachel Amber…” She swallows, “he killed her. Max said that he buried the body somewhere in American Rust. She also said that Nathan is working with someone called Mr. Jefferson, that they have a hidden photography studio under some barn the Prescotts own. That’s where they were taking the girls.”

“Those are some pretty serious accusations, Chloe.”

“There’s a Mark Jefferson on the staff here at Blackwell,” supplies David. “He teaches photography. I’ve always thought there was something… off about him. And I’ve been keeping an eye on Nathan Prescott; I think I might know the barn that Max referred to.”

“Surely the last words of a hero have to count for something?” says Chloe forlornly.

“Fine,” says Berry, “obviously Nathan will be put under arrest as soon as he regains consciousness. I can take Jefferson in for questioning, that should give us time to check the junkyard and the barn for evidence that would corroborate Max’s story.”

“Thank-you,” says Chloe, “I’d like to go home now.”

“Of course. David, why don’t you take her. I’ll have someone come round later to take formal statements from the two of you.”

As Chloe starts to get up, I turn to my guide and ask “can I go with them? I mean, am I stuck in this room?”

“You are free to go wherever you please.”

“What about doors? I’m guessing I can’t actually open them.”

“No, but as you have no physical form, you can learn to pass through solid matter. You did this instinctively when the men walked through you earlier.”

I’m not sure how quickly I’ll be able to learn, but thankfully David is holding the doors open for a zombie-like Chloe, and I’m able to simply follow her through. When they get to Chloe’s truck, David guides her into the passenger side. Unsure about squeezing into the cab, I climb in the back for the ride to their house.

Chloe runs straight upstairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. Not sure about my ability to go through it, I hesitate. Joyce comes out of the kitchen. “David? What are you doing home so early?” Then she must have read his expression, because hers becomes worried. “What happened to Chloe?”

“Chloe is fine, physically at least. There was an incident at the school; she was having an argument with one of the students and he pulled a gun on her. Another of the students intervened to save Chloe, but unfortunately she was shot, and died before the ambulance could get there. Chloe said that the girl was a childhood friend of hers who she hadn’t seen in years.” He pauses for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Chloe so upset.”

“Max? Please tell me it wasn’t Max?” she asks, an anguished expression spreading across her face.

“I’m sorry…” is all David needs to say. Joyce buries her face in his shoulder, and he holds her as she sobs. After a few minutes, she pulls back.

“That girl was like a second daughter to me. Spent more time here than she did at her own home. I just can’t imagine her being gone.” I’d never quite realized just how much I meant to Joyce. After a moment, she continues, “I should be with Chloe…”

“Of course,” says David with a gentleness that surprises me. “If there’s anything you need, just call.”

I follow Joyce upstairs. She knocks on bedroom door, waits a moment, then goes in. Chloe is sat at the head of her bed, knees tucked up against her chest. Her head jerks up as we go in, her eyes bright with the tears that are streaming down her face. “Mom?” she says, in a heartbreaking little-girl voice. Joyce simply goes over to the bed and sits next to her daughter, then the two of them wrap their arms around each other in shared grief.

I feel somewhat awkward watching them like this, particularly as it’s me they’re crying over. With the door closed, I can’t get back out of the room, and I haven’t seen my guide since we left Blackwell. I decide to simply curl up in a corner and wait. Eventually, I hear low voices; Chloe and Joyce talking about what happened, perhaps reminiscing about me. When I hear some gentle laughter, I hope it’s the latter. I want them to be able to think about me and remember happier times.


	3. In Stranger Lives

After what must have been several hours, I hear the doorbell ring, followed by David calling for Chloe. I follow the women downstairs and find Officer Berry waiting in the lounge, his face grim.

“You found Rachel, didn’t you.” Chloe states without preamble.

“We searched the junkyard and discovered a shallow grave. The coroner is making a formal identification now, but the initial findings are consistent with it being Rachel Amber. I’m sorry.”

Chloe just sighs, seemingly out of tears. “I think a part of me already knew. I wanted to believe that she’d just taken off for a better life somewhere else, but I could never quite convince myself that she’d really do that without saying a word to me, to… anyone.”

“We also found the bunker Miss Caulfield described underneath an old barn belonging to the Prescott family. There were binders with photographs of dozens of girls who appear to be drugged and often bound, including Miss Amber and Kate Marsh. We’ve taken in Mark Jefferson for questioning while a forensic team goes through the place with a fine-toothed comb.”

“You’re going to nail these, bastards, right?” Chloe asks.

“There are a lot of guys on the force who have teenage daughters, and those of us who don’t certainly aren’t going to go against them. You can be sure that we’re all pretty strongly motivated about this, and that Prescott money isn’t going to count for anything. What I need to do now is take a formal statement from you. I’m sorry to have to ask so soon, but it needs to be while things are as fresh in your mind as possible.”

“Like it or not, what Max told you is going to be an important piece of our case when this comes to trial. Defense lawyers are a tricky bunch at the best of times, and Prescott will be able to hire some particularly devious ones. They’ll almost certainly attempt to discredit what Max said as second-hand hearsay, and try to use that to taint any evidence we find. Making sure we get your story rock solid is the best way to combat that.”

Chloe nods slowly; I can almost see her remembering the promise she made me. “Of course. Whatever it takes. I can’t let them down; Max, Rachel, Kate, any of them.” Over the next hour, Berry goes through her story time and again, teasing out all the details and ensuring that she’s confident in her memory. Once he’s done with her and starts on David, Chloe flees back to her room with me following behind.

She wanders around aimlessly for a few moments, then sits at her desk. Pulling out a joint, she’s about to light it when she drops the thing in disgust. “What am I doing?” she mutters to herself. Then, out loud, she continues, “I don’t know if I believe in any of that afterlife crap, but right now I need to believe that you can hear me, Max.”

“I can hear you, Chloe,” I whisper in response.

“I want you to know that I meant what I said earlier, when I made you that promise. I’m going to stop using those things,” she gestures at the joint, “to hide from the world. I’m going to find some way to finish my education, even if it means working a shitty job and going to night school. And then… then I’m gonna find some way to make a difference. I’ve got no clue how, and with you, I’ve got one helluva reputation to live up to, but I promise you that I will find a way.”

“Listen, from what the cop said, it sounds like you saved more lives than just mine. Who knows how many other girls would have ended up like Rachel if you hadn’t found out those sick perverts.” After a moment, she adds, “Or like Kate. I didn’t really know her very well when I was still at Blackwell, but she’s a sweet, innocent kid. I saw part of the video that’s going around; it seemed wrong to me then, and now I know why.”

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that you are a bona-fide hero, and I’m going to make sure that nobody forgets that – even if I have to erect the fucking statue myself.” She pauses, thinking. “Maybe there is someone I can help, at least a little.” She grabs her keys and heads downstairs; I follow, wondering what she has in mind.

“Chloe?” Joyce is curious too. “Where are you going?”

“There’s someone I need to see. Someone Max would have wanted me to talk to. I won’t be long.” I slip out of the front door behind her, and climb into the back of her truck again. I’m not surprised when, a few minutes later, we’re back at Blackwell. After all, who else do… did I know in Arcadia Bay. My suspicions as to exactly who are soon confirmed by Chloe standing nervously in front of Kate’s door. After a moment’s hesitation, she knocks.

“Go away!” calls Kate, obviously upset. Chloe turns, as if to leave, then steels herself and knocks again. After a few seconds, the door opens. “Chloe?” she asks, not entirely sure. “This really isn’t a good time. In case you haven’t heard, one of my friends died this morning.”

“I know,” says Chloe softly, “I was there.” Surprise registers on Kate’s face, then she steps back, gesturing for Chloe to go in; I quickly follow behind and we both sit awkwardly on the floor. Kate shuts the door and sits on her bed, next to a mound of sodden tissues.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she asks. “All they’ve told us is that Max is dead, but people are saying that they heard a gunshot, and that Nathan Prescott was taken away by the police.”

“It happened in the girls’ bathroom. I was having an argument with Nathan when he pulled out the gun. I tried to calm him down, but he was freaking out as much as I was. And then Max just came out of nowhere; she didn’t hesitate for a moment as she took the bullet that was meant for me. All I could do was hold her while she slowly slipped away.”

“I don’t understand. Why would she do that? And how did she even know you? You left Blackwell before she started.”

“We grew up together, best friends from when we were tiny until five years ago when her family moved up to Seattle.”

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea you two were so close. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“Hey! Don’t minimize your own feelings, Kate. You must have been good friends too, or Max wouldn’t have asked me to talk to you.”

_That’s a bit of a white lie, Chloe!_ I thought.

“I don’t understand…”

“Max was able to talk to me for a few minutes before she passed away. She told me that Nathan and Mr. Jefferson have been drugging students, kidnapping them, and then taking them to some hidden photography lair to take sick pictures of them. I knew she must be telling the truth because… because Nathan tried to do it to me. He must have got the dosage wrong because I woke up before he could take me anywhere and I was able to fight him off and get away. That’s why I was confronting him his morning.”

Kate’s eyes are filled with compassion. “Oh, Chloe…” she begins. Chloe just gives a small shake of her head, the moves forward and takes Kate’s hands.

“Now this is going to be difficult to hear. I told the police everything that Max told me. This afternoon they found the bunker she described, and in it there was a bunch of binders with the pictures of the girls they kidnapped. I’m sorry Kate, but one of them was you. The night of that Vortex Club party, Nathan drugged you…”

Kate cuts her off. “The video. That’s why I was… doing what I did. Nathan did that to me? Humiliated me? Made some of my family despise me?” Kate’s righteous anger is a thing to behold; she looks like an avenging angel. “He said he was helping me, taking me to hospital, but actually it was… that place? I don’t really remember anything about it, but the vague recollections I did have never really made sense.”

She leans forward earnestly. “We’re going to make them pay for this, right? We’re going to make sure they don’t get away with it?” Suddenly, I find that I’m not worried about _this_ Kate ending up on that roof.

“We’ll make them pay.” Chloe responds, with absolute certainty. “For you, for me, for Max, for Rachel, and for every other girl they hurt.”

“Rachel? Rachel Amber? I’ve seen you putting up all those missing person posters.”

“Nathan killed her, too. Somehow Max knew where he buried the body; the cops found her this afternoon.” Kate gets down off the bed and wraps her arms around Chloe. They hold onto each other and just cry for a few minutes. Eventually, Chloe pulls away. “When we were kids, I always used to give Max superhero nicknames, like Bat-Max and Super-Max. Turns out that she really was a hero, and she didn’t even have any super-powers.”

_Well that’s not strictly true._ I think. Of course, this version of Chloe has no way of knowing that.

Kate grabs her phone. “I’m going to give you my number. If you need someone to talk to about any of this, I want you to feel free to call me, day or night.”

“Thanks, Kate. I’ll give you my number too. Same thing, if you need to talk.” Numbers exchanged, and seeing the time, she continues, “I need to head home soon, I promised my Mom I wouldn’t be too long, and there’s somebody else I need to talk to before I go.”

“More messages from Max?”

“This one’s more of a threat, and it’s all me.”

I can see where that’s going, and sure enough, a couple of minutes later Chloe is pounding on the next door along the corridor. When Victoria opens it, it’s clear that she’s been crying. This doesn’t stop her usual persona shining through. “Price?” she asks after a moment. “What the fuck do you want?”

“We need to talk.”

“I am _so_ not in the mood.”

“Tough shit,” says Chloe, pushing Victoria back into her room and onto the couch. “I had two real friends in the whole damn world. One of them got shot and died in my arms this morning, and this afternoon, I found out that the other has been in a shallow grave for the past few months.” There’s real venom in her voice when she continues, “I have your friend Nathan to thank for both of them.”

“What? No! Nathan would never…”

“Oh, please, Chase. You may get to see a better side of him, but you have to know what he’s capable of. Besides, he’s not the only one involved. Your photography teacher likes to drug and kidnap teenage girls, and take pictures of them while they’re unconscious. It looks like he chose Nathan as his young apprentice.”

“I don’t believe you. Mark’s not like that!”

“You don’t have to believe me. In a day or two you’re gonna hear this from the cops, or see it on the news. As for Nathan, that’s exactly what he tried to do to me a few days ago, but he fucked up and I managed to get away. Kate Marsh wasn’t so lucky. Did you really think she behaved the way she did at that party because of a few sips of wine? Nathan drugged her, and when you’d all had your laughs, he dragged her off to his evil lair. The cops found the pictures.”

“Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me?”

“It’s too late for Max and Rachel, but it’s not too late to start making amends to Kate. I really don’t give a shit if you took that video, or if you’re the one who posted it to YouTube. You’re still the queen bitch of this school; if you don’t already know who did it, you can find out. I want that video taken down. Today.”

Victoria looks ready to argue, then she deflates. “I’ll see what I can do.” I can see tears in her eyes. “I swear to you, if I’d known what really happened, I would have never…” She sighs, “of course, ignorance really isn’t an excuse, is it?” Another sigh. “Could you please leave; I really need to be alone right now.”

Surprisingly, Chloe resists the temptation to get in a final barb and quietly lets herself out. In the corridor, my guide is waiting for me. “You have been avoiding me,” it states simply.

“Not at all. It isn’t my fault you couldn’t keep up.”

“Nevertheless, there are things you need to learn.” When I move to follow Chloe, the guide blocks my path. “And it is not good for you to spend so much time watching the living. You should focus your efforts on Moving On.”

“What if I’m not ready to Move On just yet?”

“I do not understand. That is the sole purpose of your current existence.”

“Not for me. I need to know that the people I care about are safe.”

“They are no longer your concern.”

Clearly this is getting me nowhere, and Chloe is long gone, so there’s no hope of hitching a ride with her now. “Fine. Can you make yourself useful and teach me how to get through doors and stuff?”

“Of course. My primary purpose is to impart information.” This turns out to be slow going, but over the next few hours I learn how to pass through a door or wall, and how to lie comfortably on a bed. I also learn how to fall through the floor and how to get back out again, but strictly speaking that wasn’t part of the curriculum. As time goes on, I start to feel more and more tired.

“If I don’t have a body any more, how am I so exhausted?”

“Tiredness is as much a function of the mind as of the body. Your consciousness may no longer be running in a physical brain, but the same rules apply. You will still need to sleep.”

“Great. I think I’ll do that now, then.”


	4. Resident Phantom

It seems that being dead is a great cure for insomnia, because I get the best night’s sleep I ever remember having. It also leaves me without much to do, other than spying on my friends. I push my way out of the dorm room, to find myself greeted by a peculiar sight. Victoria is sat on the floor opposite Kate’s door, as if she wants to see the other girl, but is too nervous to knock and has decided to simply wait for her to come out. Intrigued, and having nothing better to do, I decide to wait with her and see what happens.

About half an hour later, Kate emerges. “Victoria?” She is, predictably, surprised.

The other girl hurriedly gets to her feet. “Kate, I… I wanted you to know that the video has been taken down. I know it’s too little, too late, but it’s the best I can do. I wish that I could go back in time and stop Nathan from doing what he did, but I can’t.”

_Trust me, Victoria,_ I think, _time travel ain’t all it’s cracked up to be._

“I also want to apologize to you, for what little that’s worth. I’m sorry for what I did – and didn’t – do. I’d like to say that this is going to change my bitchy ways, but I’ve worn that mask for so long that I’m not sure I can take it off any more.”

Kate just stares at Victoria, her face unreadable. Eventually, she asks “Why did you take that video?”

She flinches, but doesn’t try to deny it. “I thought I was seeing Miss Holier-Than-Thou showing her true colors. I was going to nobly expose your hypocrisy. I didn’t stop to think about how out of character it was, and how maybe there was something else going on. However you look at it, that’s pretty despicable.”

“Do you regret what you did? Not the fact that I tried to kill myself, not Nathan drugging and kidnapping me, but what _you_ did?”

Victoria hesitates before answering. “Yeah. I do.” She shakes her head. “I crossed a line.”

Kate looks at her for a long moment. “I forgive you,” she says at last.

“Wait… what? I didn’t…”

“I know, and that’s part of the reason why. If I thought you were just doing this to ease your conscience in some way, I’d tell you to go to hell, but I think there is a part of you that feels genuine remorse. And, frankly, I don’t want to waste the energy on hating you. So yes, I can forgive you.”

“Thanks, but I’m not sure I deserve that.”

Kate reaches up and tenderly puts a hand on her cheek. Looking Victoria directly in the eye, she says, “then work on forgiving yourself. If you can do that, the rest will follow. And if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.” With that, she hurries off.

Victoria watches her go, shaking her head slightly. “Whatever,” she mutters, then walks quickly back to her room.

* * *

Chloe’s prediction about it being on the news proves to be true the next morning. Having slipped away from my guide again, I’m sitting with Chloe at the Two Whales, watching her eat breakfast. I might not get hungry any more, but that doesn’t stop me from desperately missing Joyce’s pancakes. I look up when I hear her loudly shushing the place and turning up the TV, which is showing a CNN anchor.

“ _…this report from Arcadia bay, Oregon._ ” The picture switches to a shot of a reporter standing outside of Blackwell.

“ _This quiet little town has been shaken by revelations of serial kidnapping, and murder. Mark Jefferson, a photography teacher at the prestigious Blackwell Academy, with the assistance of one of his students, is accused of drugging and abducting numerous young women. The pair would take their victims to a secret studio where they would pose and take pictures of the abductees while they were unconscious._ ” The reporter’s suggestion that the town was ‘shaken’ might have been a little premature, judging by the number of gasps and muffled curses I hear from the other patrons.

“ _Whilst most of the victims appear to have been released, albeit with no real memory of what happened, we can confirm that at least one of them died as a result of the drugs used by the kidnappers. Local police give the credit for uncovering these crimes to eighteen-year-old student Maxine Caulfield._ ”

They cut to Officer Berry, in what I presume to be the local police station. “ _We may never know how Max found out, because tragically she was shot whilst saving one of the victims. Before she died, she was able to pass on what she’d discovered, and that led to the arrest of the two perpetrators. She also provided us with information that enabled us to find the bunker where they were taking the girls, and the body Rachel Amber, who went missing several months ago. Thanks to Max, these men won’t be able to hurt anyone else, and we’ll be able to bring support and closure to those affected by their crimes._ ”

Back to the reporter. “ _Two of those girls very kindly agreed to speak with us about their ordeals._ ”

I’m shocked to see that the first is Kate. “ _Two weeks ago, I was drugged and kidnapped at a party. I have very little memory of that night, just flashes that didn’t make much sense at the time – and an incredibly embarrassing video of me that was posted online. I had no idea what really happened, and the whole thing sent me into a deep depression. Thanks to my friend Max, now I know the truth – that I was drugged, and that none of what happened was my fault – and I can start putting my life back together. I hope that her sacrifice will let the other girls like me do the same._ ”

The second, of course, is Chloe. “ _Max saved my life. Nathan tried to kidnap me last week, but I guess he messed up the drug dose because I woke up and was able to get away. When I confronted him about it on Monday, he pulled a gun on me. I didn’t even know Max was there until she threw herself in front of the gun, knocking me out of the way just as it went off. If it wasn’t for Max, I wouldn’t be here today, and who knows how many more girls would be going through what Rachel and Kate did. She’s a hero._ ”

Back to the anchor. “ _Our hearts go out to the families of Max and Rachel, and to all the young women affected by these terrible crimes. Next up…_ ” Joyce clicks off the TV. Most of the patrons have turned to look at Chloe; even those who don’t know her recognizing the distinctive blue hair.

Awkwardly, Chloe stands up and raises her coffee mug. “To Max.” The diner echoes with my name in response.

* * *

The next few days pass in something of a blur. Now that the full story has come out, there are several other students with tales not unlike Kate’s, looking for answers. Kate herself seems to be in a much better place; the takedown of the video curbs most of the bullying, and what’s left quickly fades away when Victoria pointedly refuses to take part. Posters for the ‘End of the World’ party are conspicuous by their absence.

Thankfully, my old dorm room remains untouched, allowing me to retain some sense of normality. I know that eventually it’s going to get cleared out and assigned to some other student; if I haven’t Moved On by then, I’m going to need to find some other place to stay. For now, I’m just happy to leave things as they are, and worry about the future if and when it happens.

My guide makes itself helpful by showing me how to pick up small objects, or more accurately, to pick up copies of them. In most cases, this isn’t terribly useful, but there’s one important exception: books. Being unable to interact with the world is a recipe for boredom; I can sneak into the cinema, but for TV I’m reliant on somebody else turning it on and picking the right channel. My only access to the internet is by looking over people’s shoulders. The ability to go into a library or bookshop and take any book off the shelf is a godsend – and as the real book is still there, it’s not even stealing.

Friday afternoon finds me reading out in the sunshine on the lawn in front of Blackwell. Well, reading and people-watching. At first I don’t recognize the girl in a crisp white blouse and smart black skirt. When I get as far as processing that she has blue hair, I do a full-on double take. What on earth is Chloe doing here, and dressed more like a teacher than a student? I stash my fake book in my fake messenger bag, and follow her.

She goes straight into the admin office, site of my homemade bomb two days and a lifetime ago. “Can I help you?” asks the secretary.

“I’m here to see the principal.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“No, but if he could spare me a few minutes of his time, I would be very grateful.”

“Very well, may I take a name, and what this is regarding?”

“My name is Chloe Price, and somehow I think he’ll remember who I am.”

He leans forward and speaks into the intercom, “Principal Wells, I have a Chloe Price here to you. She believes you will remember her.”

“Indeed I do,” comes the muffled reply. “Please, send her in.”

The secretary gestures towards the Principal’s door; Chloe thanks him and goes in, with me tagging along behind. Wells comes round from behind his desk to shake her hand, then directs her to a chair. “Chloe,” he says, “please let me say how sorry I am for your losses. I remember how close you and Rachel were, and Mr. Madsen has told me that you and Max grew up together. I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now.”

“Thank-you, you’re very kind.”

“So, what brings you here today?”

“It’s because of Max, really. Before she died, she made me promise her that I would make something of my life. I’m not sure how, yet, but I do know that it has to start with finishing my education. I realize that I was far from a model student during my time here, and that it’s asking a lot for you to even consider allowing me to return, but if I’m going to finish what I’ve started, I’d like to finish _where_ I started.”

The principal leans back in his chair, puts his palms together, and considers this for a moment. “Here at Blackwell, we believe in treating our students fairly. We believe in second, and third chances.”

_Or way more than that if your surname’s Prescott,_ I think.

“Expulsion is a last resort, to be used only when it’s clear that a student’s presence here is either of too little benefit to them or too great a detriment to the rest of the student body, and that there appears to be little or no chance of that changing. For that reason, it has always been our policy that expulsions are final. Why should I make an exception for you?”

He asks this not dismissively, but honestly – as if he’s looking for her to give him a reason to say yes, rather than simply telling her the answer is no. Chloe, it seems, was expecting something like this question, and has her answer ready.

“Four days ago, my best friend in the whole world willingly sacrificed her life to save mine. That is a debt I can never hope to repay, and I will _not_ allow myself to do anything to dishonor her memory. I can’t promise you academic excellence, or that my behavior will be flawless, but I can promise to do my best, because Max has given me something that I was completely lacking when I was here before: motivation. She’s given me a reason to succeed and, perhaps even more importantly, a reason not to fail. The idea of letting her down…” she shudders. “I just can’t.” Her nerves finally get the better of her and she starts to babble, “and if you want me to dye my hair back to a normal color and keep my tattoos covered up…”

Wells holds up a hand to stop her. “Blackwell has always valued individual expression, subject to certain boundaries, of course.” He smiles, “blue hair and body art are well within those limits.” He stands up, and Chloe quickly does so too. “I look forward to seeing you back in class on Monday.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. But just to be perfectly clear, this will be your last chance.”

“That’s still one more than I ever expected to get. Thank-you.”

“Just… don’t fuck it up this time, Chloe.”

“Yessir.” She takes this as her cue to leave. Rapidly.


	5. Cool Bodies

The next day dawns cold, and grey, and miserable. Perfect weather for a funeral, I think sourly. My own funeral was, of course, an event I never expected to be attending – consciously, at any rate. As a ghost, it turns out that my attendance isn’t merely possible; it’s mandatory. My guide firmly drags me to the cemetery, and while it’s happy for me to hide away at the back of the crowd, it keeps a firm grip on my arm to deter any attempt at escape.

Seeing my parents is… difficult. I never quite forgave them for moving us away from Arcadia Bay all those years ago, and now, having seen what it did to Chloe, there’s a part of me that blames them for everything that happened over the various versions of the past week. I know it’s not fair, and I do still love them but… yeah, difficult. Certainly more difficult than looking at my own coffin suspended above an open grave; that’s merely surreal.

In the end, I’m actually glad that my guide made me come here. I know it’s a funeral and people are pretty much legally obligated to say nice things about you, but that doesn’t make them any less comforting to hear. Then, the final speaker steps forward. It’s Chloe, and I have a horrible feeling that she’s about to break my heart.

“I don’t really remember a time before Max was my best friend. We grew up together and got each other into all sorts of trouble. I’ve never been closer to anyone, so when her family moved away just after my Dad died, it was a blow I never really recovered from. I hadn’t seen her for five years when she saved my life at the cost of her own. She didn’t stop there, though; she used her last few minutes to unmask a pair of psychopaths, saving who knows how many more lives.”

“And just in case that wasn’t enough, she proceeded to give me a metaphorical kick up the behind and made me promise to better myself. Thanks to her inspiration, I’m going back to school and planning a future that doesn’t involve a slow decline and probably jail. In a few brief minutes, Max didn’t just save my life, she transformed it. Imagine what she could have done if the universe had given her more time.”

_That may be the most spectacularly ironic thing I’ve ever heard,_ I think, as Chloe pauses and looks up from the cards she’s been reading off.

“Earlier, Principal Wells referred to Max as an ‘Everyday Hero’. I must respectfully disagree; Super-Max was an _extraordinary_ hero.” With that, the façade that she’s somehow been managing to hold together finally crumbles. She drops forward onto her knees, rests her arms and head on my coffin, and bursts into tears.

“She really does love you, y’know,” says a voice to my side. I look, and my Guide is gone, replaced by a familiar-looking blonde girl. It takes me a moment to place the face I’ve seen so many times on Chloe’s missing person posters.

“Rachel?”

“Yup. I got the gig to replace your dumb-ass Guide. Figured I owe you for saving my friend’s life all those times.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Chloe – and Nathan, ever since that little shit killed me. I was there when he shot her the first time, and somehow I got pulled along with your rewind. I’ve been following you around since then, so I know what you went through in that week that never happened. I know just how hard you worked to keep Chloe alive.” She pauses. “Do you mind if I ask why you did it? Those final choices, I mean.”

This is something I’ve actually been wanting to talk to… someone about, if only to get it off my chest. “Up there, by the lighthouse with that tornado coming in, it felt like I only had two choices. Sacrifice Chloe to save the town, or sacrifice Arcadia Bay to save her. My first instinct was to protect Chloe, no matter what; ‘Before Anyone Else’, yanno? But it was pretty clear she didn’t want that, having all those deaths on our consciences. Sure, she’d be alive, but the crushing guilt would have destroyed both of us.”

“So, I went back to that bathroom where it all began. Problem was, when I got there, I realized I couldn’t really live with that option either. After everything I’d been through to keep her alive, I couldn’t just let Chloe die. Plus there was the fact that I’d fallen head over heels in love with her, and couldn’t really see a future without her. I came up with a way to save her without using my powers, whatever the cost. And I don’t regret it, not even for a minute.”

“She’s always loved you,” says Rachel after a few moments. “No matter how much she ranted and raved about you abandoning her or betraying her, I could tell that she never really hated you or even really blamed you for it.”

“I thought it was you she loved,” I say, a hint of bitterness in my voice.

“She might hide it well, but Chloe has a big heart. There’s more than enough room in there for both of us. I suspected for a long time that she had feelings for me, but it wasn’t until you two found out about Frank and me that I knew for sure. I hate that I ended up hurting her, but I just don’t swing that way; there’s not much I could have done about it.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just a little jealous that you got to spend so much more time with grown-up Chloe than I did. Plus I really wish I could be the one comforting her right now.” I nod towards Joyce, who’s doing just that as she gently coaxes Chloe away from my coffin.

“You and me both. We just need to give her time; I don’t think she’s really going to be able to start properly moving on until after she’s got through my funeral as well.”

“You’re probably right.” We watch in silence for a few minutes as the mourners disperse. Eventually it’s just us left. “So, what now?”

“Now we do something fun. I’m guessing your guide never taught you how to fly?”

“I can fly?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s hella cool, and also great for getting around.”

“Okay, so how do I do this?”

“Like everything else, it’s a case of visualizing what you want to do and applying your will to make it happen. Those guides just teach us a few simple things like they’re each individual tricks, but the real lesson is that anything’s possible. The only limit is your imagination – and your patience. It still takes practice to train your mind into each new ability.”

“Why do I have the feeling that’s not as easy as you make it sound?”

“Because it isn’t, but if you can manage time travel, you can do this. Just pick your favorite superhero, be it Iron Man,” Rachel holds her arms straight, palms facing the ground, and slowly rises into the air. “Or Superman.” She punches one hand upwards and disappears into the sky before swooping back down into a graceful landing.

“That was awesome!” I enthuse.

“Okay, now you try.” I strike the Iron Man pose, and close my eyes. I visualize the jets in my boots, the repulsors in my gloves, and activate them. After a few seconds, I crack open an eye and look around. I’m still standing firmly on the ground. “I think you might have lifted up a fraction of an inch,” Rachel supplies encouragingly. “You just need to keep trying.”

I grimace at her. “Now there’s a familiar refrain.” By the time I call it quits an hour or so later, I’m able to slowly lift myself a couple of feet off the ground. I’m in better spirits; hopefully with a few more practice sessions I’ll be flying like a pro.

* * *

A couple of days later, we’re back at the graveyard for Rachel’s funeral, and it’s my turn to be the comforting presence. This time, there’s a different feel; Rachel has already been missing for months, so it’s more about closure than it is about fresh grief. Again, I manage to hold it together right up until the point where Chloe gets up to speak.

“As Mr. Amber said, no parent should ever have to bury their child. Similarly, no teenager should have to bury her two best friends in the space of a week. After my Dad died and Max left, Rachel is the one who was here for me. Without her, I might never have made it through that dark period of my life. Another debt that I can’t repay.”

“Rachel, my angel, I never stopped looking for you, I never stopped loving you, and I’ll never forget you. The world is a far poorer place without you in it.” She hurries aside, letting Joyce hold her while she cries. When it’s over, rather than leaving she wanders deeper into the graveyard. It’s a bright, sunny day so she eventually seeks the shade of a gnarled old tree, sitting cross-legged beneath it.

“Hi Rachel, hi Max,” she says, looking almost directly at us. We exchange surprised looks before she continues. “I don’t know if you’re really there, I’ve just… felt your presence, like, in the Force or some shit. That feeling that you’ve been watching over me these last few days has really helped me get through everything. So, yeah, I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for saving my life. I’m going to do my best to make you proud.”

“So, I guess this is goodbye. I am _never_ going to forget about either of you, but it’s time for me to stop living in the past and start thinking about my future. That’s something you taught me, so I hope you understand. I love you both. Forever.”

“I love you too,” Rachel and I say in unison.

“Jinx!” says Rachel, with a brief grin. She looks back at Chloe, who is quietly crying. “I feel like we should give her some privacy.”

“Yeah, me too,” I agree. We start walking away from her. “So, what now? You planning on Moving On?”

She shrugs. “Not really sure why I’d want to. There’s too much of this world to see, and it’s not like I’ve got a bunch of family and friends waiting for me on the other side; they’re all still alive. Besides, I’ve got kinda used to keeping an eye on Chloe, being her guardian angel.”

I smile at her. “Let’s make a deal. We both stick around, wait for Chloe. She should have a couple of friendly faces when the time comes that she needs a guide, and then the three of us can all Move On together.”

Rachel looks at me, then sticks out her hand. “Deal.” We shake. “Be nice to have some company for the next sixty-odd years.” She pauses. “So, ready for one last flying lesson?”

A few hours later, we’re perched on the very top of the lighthouse under a darkening sky, watching the first pinpricks of light appearing over the ocean. “You ready, then?” asks Rachel. “First solo flight!”

“Yup. I’ll see you later!” I turn and throw myself over the edge, letting out a scream of pure exhilaration as I pull out of the dive and skim across the waves before powering up into the night. Everything seems to fade away besides the sheer joy of flying, and I find myself remembering a snatch of an old song: _I wanna lift myself up to the sky, serenade the stars as I pass by. Wanna leave it all just for a while…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is almost the end, but there’s still an epilogue to come.


	6. 82 Years Later

I’ve lived a long and happy life, but I can finally feel it slipping away. I’m ready to go now; my wife passed away almost fifteen years ago, and two of our adopted children are gone too. I’m not sure if I believe in heaven like my old friend Kate did, but I hope she’s right because there are a lot of people I’m looking forward to seeing again. As for those I’ll be leaving behind… well, most of them have been to visit me these past few weeks.

There’s a knock at the door, and the twins come in. My favorite great-granddaughters are well into their teens now, but it feels like only yesterday that they were squalling infants. At once I notice their dye-jobs – one green, the other purple – and smile. “I like your hair, girls!”

“Really, Grandma Chloe?” asks the girl with green hair. “It was Rachel’s idea.”

“You didn’t take much convincing, Maxine!”

“When I was your age I had my hair dyed blue. My mother didn’t like it much more than I suppose yours does, but she got used to it, and I’m sure Janet will too.”

The twins exchange a skeptical look. “Mom said that you wanted to tell us about where our names come from; she said that you chose them,” says Maxine.

“I merely… suggested.”

“Your ‘suggestions’ carry more weight in this family than a Presidential decree,” Rachel points out. I laugh, which turns into a cough. It quickly subsides and I weakly wave back the two suddenly concerned girls.

“You are named for a pair of incredible young women, without whom I wouldn’t be who I am. In fact, without them, I wouldn’t be here at all.” I pause, remembering. “I first met Maxine Caulfield when we were only a few years old. We became best friends at once, and over the next few years we got into almost as much trouble as you two seem to manage. Max was like the sister I never had, until it all went wrong.”

“When I was fourteen, my father was killed in a car accident. Just after that, Max’s family moved away; we had a terrible fight about it, and didn’t even try to stay in touch. With my father and my best friend gone, I became angry and depressed. Eventually, a year or so later, it all got too much. I went up to my favorite getaway spot by the old lighthouse, stood on the edge of the cliff, and leaned forward…”

Seeing the shock on the girls’ faces, I pause, then reach out to put my hand on Rachel’s; Maxine quickly covers it with hers.

“Rachel Amber saved me. I hadn’t noticed, but she was already up there, sketching the view across the bay. She pulled me back from the brink, talked to me, and held me while I cried. Her friendship finally filled the hole that Max had left behind, and pulled me out of my slump. Of course, she couldn’t have been that good an influence, because I still got kicked out of school a few years later.”

“You, kicked out of school?”

I laugh weakly. “Oh, yes, I was quite the hell-raiser in my youth. Anyway, it was a year or so after that when Rachel disappeared. It was only much later that I found out she’d been kidnapped and murdered.” I pause, feeling the familiar swell of grief, then smile at the reassuring hand squeeze from my girls. “Before we knew that, the killer tried to do the same to me. He messed up the drug dose, so I was able to fight him off and get away.”

“Go Grandma!” I grinned, but it was short lived.

“Then I did something incredibly stupid. He was a rich kid who went to my old school, so I decided to confront him and extort some money out of him. I desperately needed to pay off my drug dealer, you see.”

“Grandma!” the twins exclaimed in shocked unison.

“Like I said, I was a bit of a bad girl; but trust me: do as I say, not as I did.” I pause, fighting back the tears I can already feel coming. “We met in the girls’ bathroom at the school. We argued, and he pulled a gun on me. That was when I found out that Max had come back to town to go to school; she came out of nowhere and threw herself in front of the bullet.” I can’t hold back the ears any longer. “She died in my arms.”

After a few seconds’ silence, it’s Maxine who speaks. “I’m so sorry, Grandma. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

“I hope you never have to find out. I’ve never figured out how she knew, but before she died, Max told me enough about the killers for the police to put them away, and where they’d buried Rachel’s body. More than that, she gave me a big giant verbal kick up the ass to get my shit together. If it wasn’t for that, I’d never have gone back to school, or made any of the other changes to my life that made me who I am today.”

“So,” says Rachel, “we’re both named for people who saved your life. That’s kinda awesome.”

“And one hell of a reputation to live up to!” Maxine comments. After a moment, she asks, “do you have any pictures of them?”

“Over on the mantelpiece; Rachel is in the picture where I have my blue hair, and Max is the shorter of the two pirates.” Those battered old photos have taken pride of place in every home I’ve ever called my own. “I want you to have them, to remind you of who you’re named for. I have every confidence you’ll make them proud.”

“Are you sure, Grandma?” asks Rachel. “We wouldn’t want to take your only pictures of them.”

“Of course, my dear. My sight isn’t what it used to be; I can see them more clearly if I just close my eyes and remember. Anyway, you two should run along now. It’s time for my afternoon nap.” The girls dutifully kiss my cheek and bid me farewell. Soon, I drift off to sleep.

* * *

When I wake up, I’m very confused. I find myself standing by the side of my bed – and yet I can see myself lying in it. After a few moments, it dawns on me. “Well,” I muse out loud, “I suppose I was about due.”

“Yeah,” says a voice behind me, “you’ve had a hella good run.”

“We’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you again,” says a second voice. They both sound oddly familiar. I slowly turn around to see two teenaged girls whose faces are etched on my memory. “Hi, Chloe,” says Max.

“It’s good to finally see you again,” says Rachel. “Properly, I mean. Rather than just spying on you like we have for the last eighty-odd years.” Max elbows her, and then I suddenly find myself enveloped in a three-way hug. I promptly burst into tears.

Eventually, I pull myself together and draw back. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“Nope, you’re as dead as we are,” says Rachel, as blunt as ever.

Max shoots her a look, then turns to me. “Your family are probably going to come and check on you soon. If you’d prefer to avoid seeing that, then we should leave now.” I think for a moment about what’s to come, then nod vigorously. The girls take my arms, and walk me straight through the back wall of the house. We float gently down into the orchard, and land in the dappled shade of a pear tree.

I sit heavily and lean back against the trunk; Max and Rachel sprawl on the grass in front of me. “So,” I ask, “what are we? Ghosts?”

“That’s as good a word as any,” agrees Rachel. “We’re just hanging around until we’re ready to Move On.”

“How long does that take?”

“Most people stick it out until their funeral, then leave,” replies Max. “Those of us with ‘unfinished business’ stay a bit longer.”

“What’s your unfinished business?”

“You, of course,” replies Rachel. “Well, for me it was Nathan to start with, but I decided to hang around and keep Max company. Didn’t realize you were planning on competing with Methuselah.”

I catch Max staring at me and shoot her a quizzical look. “What?”

She flushes. “Sorry. It’s just… I’d forgotten how smoking hot you were at that age.” I clearly look baffled, as an amused Rachel pulls a mirror out of thin air and passes it to me. My thirty-something self stares back at me. I look down to see that I have the body, and the outfit, to match. After decades of looking in the mirror to seen an increasingly wrinkled face and sagging body, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have my youth, and my looks. With a smile and a nod, I concede Max’s point.

“So you two have basically spent the last eighty-odd years waiting for me to die? You didn’t want to do the whole ‘Move On’ thing?”

“Nah,” says Rachel. “There’s no rush, plus it’s a one way ticket.”

“The thing about dying young,” adds Max, “is that there isn’t really anybody you care about who’s already Moved On, so there’s even less of an incentive. That’s not the case for you.”

“Rebecca,” I breath. “I… I can see her again?” I feel a rush of excitement, and all those feelings I’ve been trying to bottle away since she died come flooding back.

Max nods. “She wanted us to let you know she’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

“You… you met her?”

“We were her guides, the same as we are for you,” replies Rachel. “For Jonathan and Amy too.”

“You’ve been looking out for my whole family,” I smile. “Are you two going to come with me?”

They exchange a look. “Our work here is done, and there are plenty of people we want to catch up with too.” Max answers. “We’ll stick around for the funeral then, yes, it’ll finally be time for us to Move On.”

“But before that, we’ve got a few days to kill,” says Rachel. “It’s finally time for you to learn the story of the week of your life you don’t remember.”

“Because it didn’t happen,” adds Max. “Oh, and it’ll also explain how I knew all about Jefferson and what happened to Rachel and Kate.”

“Right. So, it all began on the day you got shot for the first time.”

“Wait,” I say, “what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Series notes: Obviously the title inspired the scene at the Two Whales, even if it's in US, so it's cable rather than satellite news. And, yes, the lyrics quoted at the end of the previous chapter inspired that particular scene.


End file.
